In a Marauder's Mind
by Aki and Tenshi
Summary: No one tells the story of two dead men, a traitor, and a werewolf... but maybe they should Lupin's thoughts in a series of soliloquies.
1. Chapter 1

**AKI- I swore to myself a long time ago that I would write to fanfics at the same time, but, yeah I am breaking my own rules. But hey rules are meant to be broken.**

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**Legends**

We were supposed to be a Hogwarts' legend. A legacy passed on for years in stories and rumors that were exaggerated more and more each time they were told. We were supposed to be remembered. That was the reason James and Sirius did all they did. That was the reason I let James and Sirius drag me into it all. They wanted to break free of the mundane of forgotten students that go threw Hogwarts that no one knows about the next generation.

James and Sirius, wild and crazy, they were reckless, imaginative, and smart at the same time being vigilant, insipid, and completely thick. Even though then and now I did not agreed with some of the things they, we did, I still understand why we did them. They wanted to be known, and they were. Aside just being great guys, that is what drew me and Peter to them. They just had that spirit of greatness about them.

We became popular at school. Everyone knew who we were and what we did. We became infamous to the teachers and students alike. Yeah, we earned some enemies, but we also earned some admirers and some friends too. How I long to say life-long friends now, but as it turned out, life has not been very long, and friends have not always been friends.

It was almost painful when I returned to Hogwarts to teach and no one knew me as a part of those reckless marauders, but just shabby looking teacher. And James Potter was just another victim of Voldemort and father of the famous Harry Potter, but no one remembers him as a playful prankster. At that time, Peter Pettigrew was dead and forgotten, instead of being rumored of being part of the greatest friendship of all time. And Sirius Black was a murder, and no one cared about his days as a humorous boy, thinking up new ways to trick Filch and the Slytherins.

Our story should have been told and passed down by elder students, and recalled by Professors. We should have had children trying to follow our footsteps, reuse our nick-names, and reenact our pranks, while others tried to beat our record. And even if our true story and names were washed away with times, but the students still knew of the original marauders, that would have been enough. We would have left something behind. We would have imprinted something at the heart of the school. Our job would be done, but no one tells the story of two dead men, a traitor, and a werewolf…

But maybe they should.

If they told our story maybe they would remember not to judge someone because of their family, house, blood, or breed. Maybe they would know how important friendship is and how to trust others and give them a chance, and if they screw up the first one, give them a second chance. Maybe they would realize it _is _what is on the inside that counts and there are some things worth dieing for. That your family is not by were your blood is, but by where your heart is. And that you should not impress the girl you like by showing off, but being true to yourself and that true love is worth waiting for.

Very few people know the whole, accurate story of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs and even fewer know its significance. It is not about pranks, or girls, or popularity. It is not about secret passageways, or Quiditch, or magical maps. It is about friendship, and prejudice, and defying our predestined positions in life. It is about looking past stereotypes, generalizations, and bigotry. It is about seeing the heart of a person. It is about love and caring and trust and hope for the future, and, okay, maybe a little bit of Quiditch.

But like I said earlier, no one tells the story of two dead men, a traitor, and a werewolf, but maybe they should.

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**Pleeze review !**


	2. Positions

**Aki- I got some really good reviews for the last chapter. Here is my next one. Please review (again). **

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**Positions**

In the marauders, we all had a part to play and we all had a role to fill. We all were different. That was what made us so…I do not even know what to put their, cool and popular seem like such childish and naive words to explain what we were. Memorable, significant, known…

James was the leader, hands down. He created us, put us together, and gave people chances. He also held us together, through are arguments and rough times. If our friendship was compared to a brick building, James would be the cornerstone and the mortar. No matter how hard I try to explain him, James Potter was and still is beyond words. Even though sometimes he could be a cocky, boorish, vain, bigheaded git, (as Lily would say) out of the four of us he was the closest to prefect, to reaching perfection

Maybe it was that he was so accepting and that he looked past what he was ever told to believe about muggle-borns, Blacks, werewolves or whatever. I would bet you anything that he was the only one that treated me exactly the same when he found out I was a werewolf, without a second thought. He was the first one to accept Sirius despite his family and Peter not even considering his abilities or more like the lack there of. I do not blame the others for any ill thoughts they may have had of me. I have had to deal with it all my life and I was used to it by then. Peter knew werewolves can be dangerous and that was just how Sirius was raised.

But James, James never thought twice after he made his mind up and no one could talk him out of his convictions. Sometimes that made him do stupid things, but most of the time it made him so great and different and amazing. That was what made him so outstanding. That probably why it was so hard when he died first, he was just too good to go, Him and Lily.

Sirius Black, enough said. He was the reckless one, the crazy one, the throw-caution-to-the-wind one, the most rambunctious one of us all. Notice I left out care-free because Sirius was anything but care-free, no matter how good he pretended to be it. He put on a pretty good facade, but I personally know a thing or to about facades, and I could see threw it.

Sirius was running, he was always running, I do not think he stopped running until the day that he died. You ask what he was running from. I will answer you, the world. The world that said he was Black and he was better than everyone else and he better start acting like one. The world that was responsible for putting him in a family that he hated and loved at the same time, which he gave up and was disowned from. He was always running from the reminder of who he was supposed to be, but could not because he was reminded every holiday that he got some abysmal present from his parents, every summer he went home or avoided going home, every time he looked over at the Slytherin table. He was always running from fate and destiny, determining his own path and exercising his free will. But it caught up with him when he was framed for a murder and thrown in prison for years and people thought, '_I would expect nothing else from a _Black_.'_

Despite all the sadness in his life, Sirius was probably the most fun person I had ever meet in my life. He knew how to have a good time. He pushed everything to the limit. He would do things others would never dare do. Sometimes it was a good thing and sometimes it was a bad thing. Sirius did not break rules and traditions because he was being a rebel; he broke rules simply because it was fun. Sirius was too fun to die, too crazy to die, still running when he died.

Next is Peter Pettigrew. I will not pretend that right now in time that I do not hate him. But I will not also pretend that at one time he was indeed a very close friend and I would never trade the days of him as my friend because of what he has done now. But were to begin with Peter. He was the misfit of the group, the affirmative action per se. He was not as talented or smart as the rest of us were. He was not as brave or confident either. But he was still our friend.

Despite all these downfalls Peter had some very good qualities too. He was generally happy and light-hearted. He did not pick fights or insult people. In fact he barely had a temper at all. He was pretty innocent and naive in his early years. He tended to be clumsy at times or get tongue-tied, but he was follower, friendly, and loyal. At least he was.

I do not know where or when or why exactly he turned. I do not think it was just one thing and do not think it entirely his fault. As much as I hate to admit it, part of it was probably mine, and Sirius', and James' fault. Not that we shunted him aside or made him resent us in anyway, but we never let him learn, and what we did let him learn was the wrong stuff. We were too protective of him so that he never learned how to be brave by himself and that his friendship and loyalty was never tested. We taught him to have a taste for power. He aligned with us in school, because we were the big men. But out in the world, we did not have that control, so he found the new big man, Voldemort.

The Peter Pettigrew I knew as my friend is dead. The boy who was happy, quick to smile and laugh is gone. Wormtail is not my friend. He is a traitor and a servant of evil.

Peter had not learned enough when he died.

And last is me, Remus Lupin, the last marauder. I never thought I would say that. I was the peacemaker, the common sense of the group. I was the sensible, responsible one. I kind of balanced out Sirius and James wildness, with my simplicity and manners. I worked for what I got. I was never a hot head. That is probably the only good things I can say about myself.

I was never as brave James and Sirius. I was never brave enough to tell them to stop, what they were doing was wrong, that they were being idiots because I was afraid, afraid of losing them as my friends. Among the others, I probably valued friendship the most, because I never had many friends because of my…condition. That is why I kept it a secret. When most people fond out, they would shun me, and that was a best case scenario. I would get jeered or mocked or worse. I hated it, I hated myself. But when they fond out, they did not care. They did not treat me any different. They became animagi for me. And because they did not care, for the first time I could actually accept myself and liked who I was.

But now I am alone and I do not have even one of those friends who made me like myself. So now there are times in which I start to hate myself again and all I can do is try to remember the days in which I had the best friends in the whole entire world and the history of time, but that makes it hurt even more. So here I am, Remus Lupin, the last marauder, who is too alone to live.

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**P.S.- all my updates might not be as fast as this one.**


	3. Wars

**Wars**

War is a terrible thing. It should never be glorified, because war is not glory, it is horror. Yet war is sometimes necessary. No matter how many lives are lost, it is better to die fighting than to lie down to the enemy and let them walk all over you. I remember the first war as if was yesterday and already I am in the midst of another one. I was lucky enough to live through the first one; chances are I will not live through this one as well, and maybe I do not want to.

As I think back on my life I remember it in segments. First was my young childhood which I barely remember now, then my Hogwarts years, which were probably the best years of my life. Next was the first war, the time in-between and now. The funny thing is most of these times I can distinguish what happen, particular events, landmarks in my life, but in between the two wars, I barely remember anything.

Maybe I was in a haze, or I had so many good memories to fill my head already or I just did not want to remember them. The latter is probably the truest. That time was horrible, easily the worst time of my entire being. Everything was harder, meaner, everything just stung more. I know why, even though I do not wish to remember it. It was the first time in my life I was ever truly, completely alone.

Everyone celebrated after Lord Voldemort's fall sixteen years ago. I did not celebrate. The war was over yes, but the pain, the lose; the memories were still very alive. In fact I hated the end of the war because of the cost it took on others lives…on my life. The war ended with the death of my best friends. The ends of Lily and James and Peter and Sirius. And no matter how terrible the war was, I would rather be back in it with my friends alive with nameless and faceless people being murdered, than the war dead with my only friends and to have peace at last.

The day James dies, the day Lily died, the day Peter 'died', and the day Sirius died ever so recently, a bit of me died to. I am surprised I am still alive, because half the time I only feel like an empty shell and the times I do feel, it hurts so much…

Chances are I will not live to see the end of this war too. As I said earlier, maybe I do not want to. I do not know if I could live again after losing so many people I love and care about. I would rather die fighting than live with the memories of those who did. It is a dark day indeed when I would rather die than live, but I hate it. I hate this feeling of emptiness that stabs my heart at every other thought or memory. I hate not being able to laugh or smile with honesty. I hate the gaping hole on the inside where James used to be, where Sirius used to be, where Peter used to be, where Lily used to be, where my parents used to be, where the marauders used to be, where laughter, hope, love, friendship used to be. I just despise having all the hindsight of my life and the lives of my friends knowing that I did not, I was not, able to stop the evil that destroyed each and every one of their lives.

I have no foresight and I feel so lost and sad and cold. I truthfully have no clue where I am going or what is going to happen. I only live one day at a time now. I remember a time when life seemed so happy and care free and everything would be fine because I had my friends at my side all the way. I never imagined one day they would all be gone. I never imagined one day I would be all alone…


	4. Inside

**Inside **

_"But you are normal!" said Harry fiercely. "You've just got a – a problem – ,"_

_Lupin burst out laughing. "Sometimes you remind me a lot of James. He called it my 'furry little problem' in company. Many people were under the impression that I owned a badly behaved rabbit"_

You are so much like him, Harry, and you will never get to know that. You are so

much like James…and Lily. You will never get to know them, to see them. It is such a horrible fate for you, Harry. You do not deserve it. You deserve to have the parents that you can not even remember. It is so unfair. Why, oh, why does life have to be so unfair?

You are so much like James, more than just in appearance (and your hate of Snape). Everyone says you look just like him, but you are so much like him in life that that should be mentioned too. No, instead. You have his smile, his laughter (though luckily not his sense of humor). You are just like him not to judge by stereotypes, but by what you see and know. You value your friends above anything else in the world. It is very easy to mistake you two sometimes. You have the same aura of greatness as James had, and the same courage, probably the most important thing you two could share. You guys are practically carbon-copies of each other, in appearance, but do not worry, you have plenty of Lily in you as well.

Like your prominent green eyes are without doubt, and remarkably Lily's, so are many of her qualities you posses. Her integrity and honor, showing through when you never take the credit or bask in glory or fame that you have easily earned. You have the same sparkle in your eyes she would have when she accomplished something. You have her same love and trust and hope. You have a good way of judging character when you pick your friends…and her bravery too.

You have picked up so many of their great qualities…and a few of their negative ones too. Like Lily's hotheadedness, James' tactlessness, Lily's grudge holding, and James' stubbornness. Even if these are not so great they are part of you, and part of your parents in you. And I know you like nothing more than to have some grasp of who your parents are.

Yes, I say _are_ instead of _were_. I just can not use the past tense as though Lily and James are not here any more and will never come back, because that is wrong. Some might just call it denial, but I call it the truth. The ones we love never truly leave. They will always be here for us, with us, in us, in our dreams, in our thoughts, in our prayers.

I can not believe, Harry, how so much you are like them, especially since you never really knew them. It is said that children pick up mannerisms and traits from their parents, but you do not even remember them, yet pieces of their personalities are evident in yours. I do not know if it is genetic. I do not know if it is magic. I do not know if it is a coincidence. I do not know if it is a piece of your subconscious remembering them from your first year of life. I do not know if it is a miracle, but I hope it is. I hope with all my heart that it is more than just an accident that you are some much like the both of them.

I know it is silly sounding, but when I see you it is like I see Lily and James again. They are alive. They are. They are alive in you. You have no farther to look than yourself when you want what they were like. You are like them in appearance and personality. In ups and downs. In friends and family. In the negative qualities and positive qualities. In hopes and dreams. You are your own person, yet still you are your parents' child, both of them. You have your father's talent and your mother's faith. You have both of their love.

I do not think I could tell you, Harry, all this, because it brings tears to my eyes just thinking about them, about you. I could not imagine speaking it. Maybe one day, in the future, when you ask, I will answer, and you will know how much you are like them, but until that time comes please, oh, please do not forget them or forsake them. Because of all the noteworthy people in the world they deserve not to be forgotten, they deserved so much more and by living with them inside you, you give it to them. You are finishing the legacy of James 'Prongs' Potter and Lily Evans Potter. You are their child and the love of their lives.


	5. One Time

**Aki- **Any fans of this story I haven't updated in a while and I don't know when I will next, but this was a spur of inspiration because right now I love anything Tonks, Sirius, and Remus.

**One Time**

I never honestly thought that one day I would love someone who loved me in return despite my …condition. Not only love me back, but fight to try and be with me. Someone who was so hurt by the fact that when I tried to distance myself from her that she was depressed for months.

Of course I had, what I believed impossible, dreams and fantasies of such a woman, but I never imagined Nymphadora Tonks. At first glance one would think she is not my kind of woman, no way my type. She was maybe a little too happy-go-lucky and light-hearted despite the bad times and her rough profession. She was almost childish. Her appearance could change so much from week to week that one wouldn't even realize it was her until she cracked that quirky grin and whispered, 'Wotchter,' to you in greeting.

Nymphadora Tonks. Or just Tonks by her preference. One of a kind, yet the one and the same. Of course I never felt quit right or got used to calling her by just her last name. Nymphadora. Dora. To me it was a pretty. Something different and unusual, but in a good way, just like her.

It was really a surprise hen not to long later after I met that I discover that I had developed deeper feelings for her other than just an Order member, than an acquaintance, than a friend. But it scared me because I never thought she could feel the same way about me. I never thought I could tell her that I hadn't felt this way about anyone else before. Tell her that I might be falling in love with her. Tell her that she made me smile.

It was not till much later that I learned she was having similar fears. She feared that if she told me her feelings I would think it just a little girls crush. That I thought she was weird, out of place, and immature.

I never thought that of her, but the opposite. She wasn't weird. Unique is a much better word for her. Immature, not once. She might have been the only one of us adults who was mature enough to laugh and joke and play despite everything. The only one mature enough to know that even in the midst of a war we all need to smile every now and then.

Appearance-wise she was perfect. Sometimes she changed for her job, to be undercover. Other times, when she changed just because she felt like it, whether with Weasley red-hair or some neon shade, it reflected her personality, her individuality, her character, and her mood. Her every perfect fault.

Of course I always associate her original appearance not as her birth one, which she still refuses to show me, but the way she looked when I first saw her. Heart-shaped face and spiked, bright pink bumble gum hair. I let it slip to her the night we went to get Harry before his fifth year that I liked spiked pink hair.

One time I let it slip that I liked her pink spikes. One time.


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